


at last (the chronological remix)

by peasgopopping



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6813058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peasgopopping/pseuds/peasgopopping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur sees the reverence reflected back at him. He tries hard not to let it show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	at last (the chronological remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isyotm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isyotm/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The World Inside of Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085939) by [isyotm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isyotm/pseuds/isyotm). 



i.

The sun burns bright.

Arthur feels it most ardently on the back of his neck, the slick of sweat in all the usual places, making him miss the simple relief the shade of a tree could provide. From across the training grounds he can make out Merlin’s silhouette enjoying such a thing in the far off distance.

As uncomfortable as he is, he tries hard not to let it show; tempers his breathing to an even pace as he spars with the knights, the moves sewn into his muscles from years of practice, all the while ignoring the exertion strains pulling at his limbs and the instinct to pant like a dog.

Too many eyes on him to show the flicker of the mere man beneath the royal title.

Arthur sees the reverence reflected back at him, the awe with which his fighting prowess is admired. It is inevitable that one day he will lead these men into battle so Arthur puts all his effort into the facade of a skilled warrior. He knows all too well the frantic haze of being lost in a fight, losing the reigns of those under his command, and the weight of death that follows.

He bares his teeth, feels the incisors bite into his bottom lip as he keeps himself from gasping for breath. This is perhaps the last one-to-one fight he can manage while still coming out on top. He offers out a hand to the knight he bested, supine and ruddy faced, eyes almost shining like marbles in post-defeat marvel.

Arthur can only hope that it’ll last through a real fight.

 

 

 

 

  
ii.

Merlin doesn’t consider the idea of whispers following him to be an unusual notion. It is how he ended up in Camelot after all.

Though not unfamiliar it is by no means comfortable.

Gwen gives his arm a pat as she tells him that the things said are all good things, nothing to worry about. Merlin hopes that it’s true because he is yet to have an opportune moment to hear for himself. Gaius tells him bluntly that the rest of the castle think him a bumbling fool, lovable and yet foolish.

Then with the numerous corridors and winding staircases in the castle, the chance to eavesdrop presents itself. He doesn’t hear much, just catches the tail end of a whisper between squires, speaking jovially of a verbal spat Merlin and Arthur had during their last hunting trip.

There are always eyes on the prince, Merlin knows this because his are drawn to Arthur as well. Merlin had just never truly considered that similar attention would fall to him consequently as a result of being with him. It’s fine if people think him to be a little dimwitted and find amusement in his interactions with Arthur because that would mean they consider him harmless.

Harmless is not a threat.

Threats do not touch Arthur.

So Merlin can stay by his side to ensure that none ever do.

 

 

 

 

iii.

There is a pile of straw where a target used to be.

Arthur is a little annoyed by the mess left but it is so thoroughly destroyed he gets an essence of the frustration behind the act. A substantial amount of time and effort is required for a single person to hack and slash a target to shreds. By its design, a target is meant to last the hours of multiple training sessions. It does not fall apart if hit in the right spot.

Arthur knows from experience.

When his sense of power is lost, he relies on target practice; the feeling of absence boils until the reduction left is bitterness. An early lesson he learnt was that his anger flared when he perceived there was an injustice being carried out. The following lesson was that he could often do nothing about it.

When his knights arrive, Arthur observes their movements carefully. Which one moves just a tad too slow, whose arc doesn’t reach high enough to draw the blade down, whose eyes turn away from his when they meet?

Ah. That one.

 

 

 

 

  
iv.

The crown doesn’t feel heavy on his head.

If floats as though it weren’t there at all. Perhaps because Arthur hasn’t quite accepted that he is king.

The crowd’s call of ‘long live the king’ reverberates and it’s only when Arthur scans the faces to find one he knows that he feels it settle in his bones. There are members of the council, dignitaries from other kingdoms, his knights, Merlin. It fixes him to the spot, keeps his head up high, nearly makes it feel real.

 

 

 

  
v.

Battles are loud events.

There is much yelling, cries, clashes of metal, thuds against shields. Perhaps the loudest is the roar in his ears that rises above it all. Arthur hears his ragged breath, the sound of blood pumping. It’s fast, adrenaline keeps him alert to his surroundings; it’s not fear and it’s not bloodlust.

It’s a upset, he turns to his side and, finding an empty space where Merlin should be, amplifies the noise.

There is a second when Arthur turns to look the other side but he quickly remembers that Merlin is not here at all.

 

 

 

 

vi.

Merlin darkens the sky when he calls forth the lightning.

It was easy. He now feels the magic run freely through his veins as though it had been in shackles, under lock and key in a place Merlin could only skim with his fingertips. He had been armourless, weaponless, and now his magic provided him with both.

Surveying the battlefield he can tell that numbers have been reduced on both sides yet there is still movement, smatterings of skirmishes and one-to-one fights that quickly end. Confident that Arthur is still amongst them, he races to join the fray, because he is sure that Morgana and Mordred are too.

 

 

 

  
vii.

The lightning comes as a surprise. No rain falls but the thunder rolls and the bolts come too close for comfort. Arthur is tired and surrounded, he musters up all he has to face the number of enemies before him. They come like waves crashing against a cliffside and Arthur can feel himself start to crumble. Then they are thrown away by an invisible force, a moon has pulled them away with such ferocity that Arthur can stand alone.

Arthur turns, he knows that move of magic. He looks for the source, as though it would make some kind of difference should it be decided that he was the one to be struck next.

He sees a familiar figure in the distance. Almost feels safe but the distant sounds of battle cries intrude so he musters up the strength to weather the storm once again.

 

 

 

   
viii.

There is death all around.

But none of it is Arthur’s so Merlin keeps on. It can’t come down to this, with all they have done and all they have yet to do. He sees the knights of Camelot fight bravely against the onslaught and tries to see if Arthur is amongst them.

His magic does nothing for the tired aching bones of his transformation so he grips the staff and moves along the Plane of Camlann. If he can just make it to Arthur, make sure that Arthur is safe, there will be time for rest later.

 

 

 

  
ix.

The heat of war subsides but doesn’t yet cease.

Arthur looks around between swings of his blade, sees the bodies scattered, his insides twisting as he recognises the pale faces of his knights.  
His eyes catch movement. Not too far away a hand reaches out to him and he goes. He kneels down beside his knight and it’s almost like they are both on the training grounds once again. If Arthur takes this hand and pulls him up… If there is still strength to go on…

The arm falls before Arthur can even say anything. Bright eyes that regarded him with such wonder close and he knows it is for the last time.  
Arthur stands and leaves his fallen comrade to join the others still remaining, not knowing that fate lurked just behind him.


End file.
